


Guilty Secret

by Minervas_Revenge



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Mistaken Identity, Polyjuice Potion, Post-Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-23 10:30:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16617257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minervas_Revenge/pseuds/Minervas_Revenge
Summary: When Luna sells a story to the Prophet about Hermione, secrets start gushing!





	1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

 

As usual, Hermione’s mind was filled with too many thoughts, distracting her from the words she wanted to say.

 

_Was the restaurant too romantic for dinner with a co-worker? Did he think of her as a co-worker? Did he know she was in love with him?_

 

The setting couldn’t be more perfect, bathed in the glow of candlelight. The hum of intimate conversations and the clink of silverware surrounded them. The remnants of dinner had been cleared away leaving only a bottle of wine and their glasses.

 

Hermione braced herself. Gryffindor, she might be but she was inexperienced with matters of the heart. Emotions weren’t logical; however, she knew how she felt and she was out of time to confess. Meeting the gaze of the wizard across from her was, emotionally, the bravest thing she’d done since leaving Ron Weasely.

 

“I’m sad that tomorrow’s the last day we’ll share an office,” she began, voice soft.

 

Lucius Malfoy sipped his wine before replying.

 

“Surely, your politics will prevent you from staying away entirely,” he drawled with a wry smile.

 

Hermione didn’t fight her grin. She enjoyed his wit and Lucius enjoyed baiting her. Despite their past, sharing Wizengamot chambers for a year prompted the grudging development of mutual respect and eventual, surprising, friendship. Unfortunately for Hermione, her poor heart, susceptible to Lucius’ old-world charm, grew attached to him.

 

“You know very well my politics are driving me away,” she replied.

 

Lucius directed the wine bottle to refill their glasses with a silent, wandless spell. 

 

“That you’re leaving to _conduct research_ … Waste of your influence, my dear.”

 

Everything about the man fascinated Hermione but of particular appeal was his voice. He was a master of his vocal instrument. Lucius could inflect sarcasm into a compliment, twisting it into a scathing remark that left the recipient baffled and he could hiss displeasure that sent the Ministry owls flapping away for their lives.

 

Lucius’ prowess over magic, wandless or otherwise, likewise contributed to Hermione’s obsession. His life was infused with magic in ways that she might never understand, having been born and raised in a Muggle home. She ruminated that it wasn’t so big a shock that she was helplessly smitten with Lucius, a wizard ingrained into the magical world that she loved more than breathing.

 

“You will be missed,” Lucius intoned, tipping his wine glass towards Hermione in salute.

 

When Lucius was near, Hermione’s brain turned to mush. She was overcome with a desire to impress him, her true opinions, be damned. The wizard simply rendered Hermione unable to be objective.

 

Why couldn’t she say it?

 

_I’m in love with you._

 

Would he laugh? Would his gaze become pitying?

 

“And, I will miss you,” she replied, mirroring Lucius’ salute with her glass.

 

Had he narrowed his eyes? Did his hand hesitate for a moment while swirling his wine? Or had she imagined it?

 

“Thank you for dinner,” Hermione began. “It was kind of you.”

 

“Kind,” Lucius huffed. “Not an adjective with which I am typically associated.”

 

Desperately, Hermione wanted to reply that no one knew him like she did. Instead, she dropped her gaze to the stem of her glass that her fingers restlessly turned. The wine was gone and so was Hermione’s time.

 

“If you’re ready, I’ll see you home,” Lucius prompted.

 

Hermione dared not meet Lucius’ gaze for fear of revealing her hope that seeing her home promised more than leaving her at the door.

 

Was it possible Hermione was alone in believing their relationship to be deeper than mere friendship?

 

“I am,” she said breathily, rising to her feet.

 

Lucius followed Hermione between chairs to the restaurant’s entryway and gently settled her cloak across her shoulders.

 

Surely, Lucius felt something.

 

In companionable silence, Hermione walked beside Lucius through Diagon Alley to the building housing her flat. Heart in her throat, Hermione turned to face Lucius. There wouldn’t come a more perfect opportunity for her to tell him.

 

Lucius’ pale-eyed gaze flickered across her face and his lips compressed as if readying to speak but he leaned towards her. Hermione held her breath and tilted up her chin. _He was going to kiss her!_

 

“Oi! Granger! Your damned kneazle ate me paper!”

 

Hermione jumped at her neighbor’s booming voice and Lucius took a step back. Hermione waved an exasperated hand, acknowledging Jasper, the skinny, young wizard who lived on the ground flat, and found Lucius wearing an expression of distaste. 

 

“You’ll be in tomorrow?” he asked, voice sharp with annoyance.

 

“Just to pack my personal belongings,” she said softly. She felt empty. The moment had been effectively shattered by her uncouth neighbor. And Crookshanks’ penchant for shredding newsprint.

 

Lucius gave Hermione a nod in farewell and Disapparated.

 

“Sorry, Granger. Looks like I interrupted somethin’,” Jasper growled.

 

Hermione stared at the spot upon which Lucius had turned, accepting her disappointment, and braced herself to deal with Jasper.

 

**The next day…**

 

Feeling hollow, Hermione slowly gathered her few meager belongings and settled them into a box. She’d slept very little, fretting that she hadn’t confessed to Lucius. He was accustomed to strolling into the office after ten o’clock and it was likely that she would be gone before he arrived.

 

“Good morning, Ms. Granger.”

 

Warmth shot through Hermione to hear Lucius’ voice.

 

“This is an unexpected surprise,” she teased.

 

Lucius lifted a brow in response to her humor as his cloak left his shoulders, soaring to hang itself behind the door. Hermione grinned wider at his lack of response.

 

“Do you have a moment, before you go?” the wizard asked, gesturing towards the leather chairs before the cold fireplace.

 

Hermione suddenly wished she could take one of the chairs with her. She and Lucius had sat and debated away many hours in their comfort.

 

“Is everything alright?” she asked, smoothing her skirt as she perched on the familiar, worn leather.

 

Lucius gave an irritated sigh that leaned strongly towards ‘no.’

 

“There is something I must tell you,” he drawled in a deceptively light tone.

 

Hermione’s shoulders tightened. She knew that tone and it meant nothing good.

 

“Luscious, darling!”

 

The high pitched voice came from a tall, glamazon of a witch with long, thick, auburn hair. The woman spared Hermione a curious glance before launching herself at Lucius.

 

Hermione watched Lucius catch the woman then gently guide her onto her feet.

 

“Sorcha, lovely to see you,” he purred. “What are you doing here?”

 

“I’m here to see you, Luscious. No secrets between husband and wife, right?”

 

Hermione could do nothing but watch in growing horror.

 

_‘Luscious?’_

_‘Husband and wife?’_

 

“Malfoy,” barked a baritone from the doorway.

 

“Lucius,” called another feminine voice.

 

“McCrae! Elspeth! Please, come in.” Lucius greeted his elderly guests with more animation than Hermione thought possible from the moody, taciturn man.

 

Hermione remained still, watching a wizard she thought she knew converse with his three visitors and utterly ignore her. The hollowness she’d felt before was steadily filling with bitter confusion.

 

If Lucius had been about to kiss her the night before, he would have cheated on his fiancé. If they were as close as Hermione imagined they were, how could he have kept his engagement a secret? A better question would be why would he keep it a secret? Did he suspect Hermione’s feelings?

 

“I didn’t realize you were here. I would have cleared my schedule,” Lucius said, impossibly tall Sorcha clutching his arm.

 

“We had no wish to trouble you, Lucius. We came to see Celestina Warbeck perform tonight.”

 

“Sorcha wanted to see where you work,” Elspeth explained, glancing around the office. Her eyes landed on Hermione. The older, auburn-haired witch grinned and took a step towards Hermione as if to introduce herself but Lucius interrupted.

 

“Allow me to give you a tour,” he drawled, offering Elspeth his free arm and leading the group out of the office.

 

Hermione blinked after them. What had just happened?

 

Before the McCrae family had appeared, Lucius had intended to tell her something. Perhaps it was that he was engaged. However, she was also certain that he had intended to kiss her the night before.

 

After a few moments of silent reflection, Hermione realized that she didn’t want to be there upon Lucius’ return. She picked up her box but lingered a moment, gazing down at Lucius’ neat desk. She’d miss him terribly. Not seeing him on a daily basis would crush her heart.

 

A glint of burnt orange caught her attention. It was a long, auburn hair.


	2. Three Years Later

**Chapter 1 – Three Years Later**

 

A smile sprang to Hermione’s lips to flip a page in the Daily Prophet to be met with a picture of herself and her son, Cassius. She remembered Rolf taking the picture while the autumn sun bathed them in gold. Hermione was showing Cassius how to feed Bowtruckles in the forest workshop. Cassius’ blond hair glowed like white fire. His small features looked so like his father’s that Hermione experienced a pang.

 

The article was an opinion piece Hermione had written for the Quibbler on protecting wand trees. It was rather flattering to see it reprinted in national media.

 

_Wait._

 

Cassius’ picture was in the Prophet.

 

The entire Wizarding World would see him!

 

Suddenly, her hands fisted, crinkling the newsprint, and her heart skipped.

 

“Luna!” Hermione hollered, anxiety raising the pitch of her voice.

 

The perpetually unruffled witch floated into the kitchen from the spacious herb and vegetable garden.

 

Hermione held up the crumpled paper.

 

“I thought the article would only run in the Quibbler.”

 

Luna broke into a smile.

 

“Isn’t it lovely? The Prophet bought the story from father.”

 

“I see. But, that’s not the same picture, Luna,” Hermione said, voice tight. Her hand gripping the paper began to tremble.

 

“That picture is a nicer one, Hermione,” Luna replied. “Do you not like it?”

 

While Hermione was charmed by Luna’s eccentricities, her thoughtless decision to replace the picture of Hermione with one of her and Cassius might prove disastrous to the peace Hermione had built for her and her son.

 

“I love it,” Hermione replied softly, helplessly. She couldn’t blame Luna. Hermione had never confided in her that Cassius must remain a secret.

 

Satisfied, Luna returned to the garden. Hermione took a few deep, steadying breaths.

 

Two owls soared, one after the other, into the kitchen and landed amidst the breakfast dishes. Hermione’s stomach sank to her knees to read her name on the scrolls. She quickly untied the post and tucked away the scrolls to read later. The owls quickly took to the air.

 

“Hermione! There’s a reporter here for you,” Luna’s voice called.

 

“Please, send him away,” Hermione replied. She didn’t care that the reporter would hear her. She wasn’t going to speak to anyone. Through a crack in the curtains, Hermione watched the reporter Disapparate.

 

It was over.

 

Hermione’s tranquility had lasted almost three years. She assumed Harry might reach out to her when she submitted her article to the Quibbler but that was it.

 

After a quick peek between the curtains to confirm that the reporter was gone, Hermione set out into the forest to look for Rolf and Cassius. She felt a deep need to see her son and escape to their home.

 

There was a smaller cottage on Rolf’s property, an old caretaker’s cottage, nestled amidst the wand trees. It was unplottable and the crux of Hermione’s haven.

 

A short trek into the woods brought the witch to her favorite person in the world. Cassius ran to her, eager to show her the new family of bowtruckles Rolf had discovered. Hermione took a few moments to observe the new creatures and chat with Rolf before scooping up Cassius to head for their cottage.

 

Once in the safety of their home, Hermione took a moment to breathe. For better or worse, change was imminent. Cassius settled at his miniature workbench and clumsily mimicked his mother’s actions in potions research, grinding ingredients with his mortar and pestle and adding them to his cauldron.

 

Hermione pulled out the scrolls and sat down near Cassius. She didn’t recognize the first seal.

 

_“Everyone thinks he’s mine. Fix this._

_-D. Malfoy”_

Memory surfaced from the morning Hermione snuck away from Lucius Malfoy’s bed. She had woken, startled. The Polyjuice Potion had long-since worn off and she hastened to escape the Manor before Lucius awoke.

 

“Granger!”

 

The voice froze the blood in Hermione’s veins. Draco Malfoy stood at the top of the stairs she’d just descended. The wizard’s face was white with anger.

 

“He’ll never forgive you for this.”

 

“I know,” Hermione had replied.

 

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll disappear,” he growled.

 

Without a word, Hermione returned his stare. After a moment, she realized he wasn’t going to draw his wand or detain her. She spun and dashed for the door.

 

“Mama,” Cassius proudly presented her with a cauldron full of harmless greens.

 

“What a wonderful potion, Darling,” Hermione said softly, full of love and a desire to protect her son.

 

Draco had threatened her to stay away from his father but it hadn’t been necessary. Lucius was to marry that Irish redhead and Hermione’s heart felt empty. Her ruse with Lucius had been her goodbye. 

 

Cassius took his cauldron back to his bench and tipped it over. He began assembling a new ‘potion.’

 

The second letter was from Harry. He asked the expected questions and begged her for a response. Hermione set the scroll aside to answer later, after she’d had a chance to think and plan. Now, it was only a matter of time before her haven was disrupted.

 

Cassius suddenly looked up and smiled at her. Hermione never got on well with the children of others but she adored her own. He had so much of his own personality that it eclipsed his remarkable resemblance to his kin. Hermione’s heart hurt to think on Lucius now. She probably cried of a broken heart every day since she left him until the day that Cassius was born. But, once she had the baby, her focus shifted. Rolf and Luna never questioned Hermione’s melancholy and welcomed Cassius without a single question or curious glance at the distinguished white of his hair.

 

Hermione scooped up Cassius and lifted him high, bringing him down swiftly and he squealed with giggles.

 

“Love you, muffin,” Hermione murmured, and pressed a kiss on the top of his pale locks.

 

A knock startled Hermione and she went quite still to see Lucius Malfoy standing behind Luna on her doorstep. And Lucius looked murderous.

 

Hermione’s heart thumped hard in her chest and her mouth went dry.

 

Luna drifted away unnoticed as Hermione set Cassius back to playing on the floor and Lucius stepped into the little cottage.

 

Hermione stood beside her son, waiting anxiously for the wizard to say or do something. It was strange to see him after so long. She had never thought to be near him again. She realized that she was scared of him. What could he possibly be thinking? How had he found out that Cassius was his? Draco..?

 

“It was you that night, then,” Lucius finally said, still watching their son play with the plants Hermione had allowed him.

 

Hermione said nothing. Lucius’ voice curled into her ear like warm breath and her throat closed with welling emotion.

 

“What do you call him?”

 

“Cassius,” Hermine breathed.

 

“Good name,” Lucius replied, gaze unable to look away from the boy.

 

“Why didn't you tell me about him?”

 

“You were engaged,” Hermione said lamely and swallowed.

 

“I had no intention of remaining engaged after that night, with you...”

 

Hermione felt behind her for the chair and fell into it. Her knees suddenly had no interest in supporting her.

 

“You knew it was me?”

 

“I knew it wasn't _her_ ,” he countered. “I suspected you upon your disappearance... I searched for you...”

 

Lucius finally looked at her and she nearly stopped breathing to be the subject of his familiar, pale gaze.

 

“I was warned to stay away,” she said, thoughtlessly. ~~~~

“Warned? By whom?” he asked, gaze suddenly chilly.

 

“It doesn't matter,” Hermine said, ripping her stare from him to focus on Cassius.

 

“I'll find out eventually,” he muttered darkly.

 

Hermione remained mute.

 

“I want to be involved in Cassius’ life from this day, forward.”

 

“We want for nothing,” Hermione explained.

 

“And you never shall. May I..?”

 

Hermione appreciated that he asked and nodded shyly.

 

“Cassius,” Lucius said, falling to a knee beside the boy.

 

Cassius looked upon his father with wide eyes and then smiled and offered him a handful of greens. Lucius accepted them with a chuckle.

 

Welling with sudden, inexplicable tears, Hermione gasped them away as quickly as she could. Lucius saw them, regardless.

 

“Things might be much different if you had been beside me that morning,” Lucius said in his deceptively delicate voice.

 

“I was so afraid...” Hermione whispered. “I was in love with you...”

 

Cassius looked at Hermione, curious about her hushed, broken voice.

 

“You have nothing to fear,” Lucius replied softly.

 

“Then, you are welcome here,” Hermione offered simply.

 

“How often..?” he drawled, climbing to his feet as Cassius began tearing daffodil roots.

 

“As often as you like.”

 

“And if I wish to stay with you..?” Lucius asked, taking a step towards Hermione.

 

“I suppose I - Lucius, what is it you want?”

 

“As I can't have the last three years back, I'll settle for the opportunity to make up for lost time. And I want the name of whoever warned you off.”

 

Hermione symbolically pressed her lips together. She did not want to tell. She wondered what sort of relationship Lucius had with Draco. Perhaps once she knew, she would tell him... But not yet.

 

”Hermione, understand now... I want to be here for Cassius...”

 

“I do understand,” she nodded.

 

“And you.”

 

Hermione’s idiot heart stuttered as he stepped nearer and drew her to her feet with a proffered hand.

 

“Oh? Why?”

 

“As I said, things would be much different if you had stayed... You see, I never dreamed that you would forgive me, much less, love me in return.”

 

Lucius leaned over her and pressed his lips to hers.

**Author's Note:**

> I brainstormed this plot way back in 2012. I'm not sure why it sat for so long, I adore the plot.


End file.
